


Mac Makes His Dad Cry

by lilmizmccree



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Men Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmizmccree/pseuds/lilmizmccree
Summary: A look into Luther's deep, dark psyche after he leaves for Tijuana so he can take the time to forgive Mac. Turns out he does have a soft spot for his son. A soft spot that hurts him all the time. He doesn't want his dear boy to be afraid of him...
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Mac Makes His Dad Cry

I sit on the beach of Tijuana, and I figure I should be happy here.  
Who wouldn’t? It’s beautiful here. It’s sunset... I could find a pretty lady to spend the night with. Maybe a handsome man, if that’s what I’m feeling. Everything should be good, right?  
Wrong.  
Really... I’m very sad inside. My heart is broken. I don’t really think anything could make me feel better. At least not right now. I’ve sentenced myself here. Sentenced until any feelings of being upset have subsided so that I won’t go back to Philly and do something stupid.  
So here I sit, with big tears in my eyes. They mostly just sit there, since I can’t really blink them out. It’s fine; they’ll find their way out eventually. Just as long as I get them out.  
This is probably the saddest I’ve been in my whole life.  
I think I fucked up...  
My son. Mac. I think he’s afraid of me.  
That’s not what I want. I love that kid. Always have, really, whether he knows it or not. Fell in love with him the minute he was born. Even if I don’t show it, even if I’ve expressed the opposite, the love’s there in my heart. And that friend of his... Charlie. Charlie’s a good guy, too. _Innocent_ might not be the word, but he’s a good pal, and I’m glad that Mac’s got a good pal at his side. Every man needs one of those.  
Just makes me sad that I made them both nervous enough that they wanted me to stay in prison. That they pretended to be dead because they thought I was gonna come after them.  
I wasn’t. I swear.  
I don’t want my son to be afraid of me.  
The worst part might be that it might not be anything I did. He might just be afraid of _me_ 一 the man that I am, and at this point in my life, can’t change. I don’t really blame him, either. I’m... Intimidating. As someone who’s lived in prison for a long time now, I have to be intimidating. That’s how I survive. But it... It changed me in the eyes of my one and only son.  
How can I blame him? How can he force himself to find love in these unblinking eyes? Find comfort and safety in my arms that I’ve used to strangle others?  
He can’t. And I can’t force him to.  
It just... Hurts that I might have lost him. And I can’t replace him.

Sitting here on the sand at the edge of the water, verge of tears, I feel something in my throat. Feels like something’s stuck. I try to force it out.  
It comes out as nothing but a weak little squeak.  
A squeak.  
I don’t think I’ve ever squeaked like that before in my life.  
My lip puckers and my whole chin creases. When I breathe out, it comes out shaking.  
As the tears continue to build up, I feel my eyes narrow. Another one of those squeaks come out... My eyes just keep narrowing. My nose starts to run, but I ignore it.  
Eventually, my eyelids are pinched enough that tears finally start to fall down my face. My chest swells up, and everything feels swollen; my throat... My chest. My _heart..._ My poor, broken heart feels like it’s throbbing.  
And just like that, after years and years of having my eyes open...  
I close them.  
I close them, and submit myself to that one irrational fear that I’ve had since that awful incident in prison.  
That being the dark.  
But I’m so beaten down by how much my heart hurts that I barely notice the dark behind my eyelids. Rather, I put my head down against my knees that I’ve got pulled into my chest, and I begin bawling. Embrace the hurt.  
Let myself know deep down that I’m deeply sad. And... Even if some might criticize me for having feelings come straight out of nowhere, that it’s alright that I’m sad.  
I’m crying so hard I can barely breathe through my heaving chest, but I think I really needed this. Just to be alone... Cry. I don’t think I can get better without the cry.  
All the pain I’ve felt throughout the years finally comes out.  
Opening my eyes again, I sniffle, and look out towards the ocean again. There’s so much tears that have built up in my eyes that still need to fall... The sunset’s blurred together with the ocean through the tears.  
Taking in a shaking breath, I whisper out into the ocean breeze and hope that he can somehow hear me:  
_“I’m sorry, Mac. I’m so sorry.”_

~ ~ ~


End file.
